


It's A Boy (Plus Adam, Makes Four)

by Anilkex



Series: You Are The Third Winchester [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Rescue, Third Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 13:13:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2069571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anilkex/pseuds/Anilkex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My muse asked me to add Adam to the Third Winchester AU because she feels bad for his current situation.  I thought...add one more angsty character to the mix with more options for schmoop and drama?  I'm in.</p>
<p>So this is the story of how Adam joins the family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's A Boy (Plus Adam, Makes Four)

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place after Big Things, Little Packages.

I surveyed the scene with fake professional interest while surreptitiously trying to untwist the stockings that were wrapping themselves awkwardly around my waist.

Dean swatted my hand, giving me an amused look. “Quit fidgeting with your lady stuff and find the kid.”

I gave the stubborn material one final yank, rolled my eyes at Dean, and wandered through the house in search of the victim’s son.

Sam found this case completely on accident. After wrapping up a ghoul infestation further north, we stopped in Central Wisconsin on our way back to Bobby’s. We were in our crappy motel room eating a crappy late breakfast, when the police scanner went crazy with reports of a bizarre death in town. Dean and I got into our fed costumes, and came to the scene. 

Sam stayed behind because he ruined his suit with ghoul juice two days ago.

I strolled from room to room, absently tapping my little notebook against my palm, trying to ignore the discomfort from the pantyhose. I took in the pictures on the mantel of a young man and an older woman in various places - smiling at a graduation, posing on a soccer field and after a martial arts class - noting how they all marked important events over several years. I entered the kitchen, nodding politely at a uniformed local, and spotted the young man from the photos.

He was sitting at the table, hunched over in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. He had his head in his hands, and his face wore that completely lost expression I remember seeing on Sam after Jess died.

I cleared my throat to get his attention.

He looked up at me, that familiar haunted look filling his red-rimmed eyes. “Yeah?”

“Hi...I’m Agent Rhodes. I know this is hard, but I need to ask you a few questions. May I please sit down?” I did my best to copy Sam’s Eyes, in hopes that it would help him open up.

He nodded and gestured at the chair opposite him, so I smiled and sat, pulling out my pen and opening the notebook to a clean page. “So, the victim was your mom?”

He swallowed and looked at the doorway to the living room, where the body was located. “Yeah...um...I came home from school to surprise her and...found…” He hiccup sobbed, and I gave him a moment to compose himself.

Nodding sympathetically, I asked, “And school is…?”

“University of Wisconsin. I, uh, was having a rough semester, and I just wanted to come home for a few days. You know, to regroup, clear my head. I didn’t expect…” He sighed, but kept the tears in check.

“Did your mom tell you about anything strange going on before you came home? Anything unusual happening in her life?”

He shook his head, and I noticed that his sandy brown hair flopped across his forehead just like Sam’s. “No, nothing. Me and my mom...we hadn’t talked in a couple weeks. But from the last time we spoke, she didn’t say anything weird was going on.”

I pretended to make some notes, nodding my head like a good little federal agent, and continued with the questioning. “This may be a bit uncomfortable for you, but...what about your dad? Is he in the picture at all or…?”

The boy sighed. “I never knew my dad. Mom raised me alone. She...she always wanted a kid, but I guess she never found the right guy. So...she, um…” He squirmed a little in his seat. “...went to a sperm bank. She said she picked a guy she thought had all the qualities she’d want in a father, and…yeah.” He looked down at his hands, which were now clasped in his lap. His cheeks turned a little red, telling me he didn’t really want to disclose this information, but since I was a federal agent...he didn’t have a choice.

Ha.

I knew we’d need to check who the donor was, just in case her death was somehow related to the father for reasons unknown to this kid and his mom.

“Okay...well, I’ll need to check those records and get a name...just in case. I know that may be a little awkward, but - “

He straightened up. “Oh - I have the name.”

I blinked in surprise. “Oh! You do?”

He looked sheepish. “Yeah, my mom doesn’t… _didn’t_...know. I just...I wanted to know who he is, you know? Just in case...something… _*sigh*_. I guess this is the something, huh?”

This was going to save us a lot of digging and badge flashing. “What’s his name?”

“Um...John...John Winchester.”

I almost pissed my pantyhose.

“I - I’m sorry...did you say _John Winchester_?”

“Yeah...that’s his name. I have a picture of him upstairs in my room...do you wanna see it?”

_Duh…_

“Yes, _please_ , that’d be great,” I said, trying not to sound eager.

He stood, and made his way to the stairs, avoiding the body on the way. 

Realizing I didn’t know the kid’s name (way to go, _Agent_ …) I classily asked a uniformed officer, as if I were checking it against my own records.

_Adam Milligan._

I decided to make sure the picture matched Dad’s face before giving Dean a heart attack, so I stayed in the kitchen and waited for what felt like hours. Finally, Adam returned carrying a manilla folder. He handed it over with an embarrassed look on his face, his eyes freshly wet from probably another round of crying while upstairs. He sat down, and put his head back in his hands.

I took the folder and stared at the cover. The label on the tab simply said “Dad”. Taking a deep breath, I opened it. Inside was only one sheet of paper. And right there, in the top center, was a snapshot of the man himself.

The picture was over twenty years old...and he looked _soooo_ young. I could still see the slightly haunted look in his eyes, but his face wasn’t carrying the burden of hunting just yet. I did the mental math...I was only three back then, so when he _donated_ , he wasn’t even aware of my existence. I bet he figured this was an easy way to get cash. 

The paper didn’t have a lot of information on it - just data on when the donation occurred and when Adam’s mom chose it. Sam would have to check this out more thoroughly.

Right now, I was having trouble seeing straight.

Adam’s coughing broke me from my thoughts. I shut the folder quickly, and took a better look at him. He was bent over, coughing into the crook of his arm. His Sam-like hair flopped onto his forehead, and when he noticed me watching him, he blushed and dragged a hand down his face _ohmygod like Dean_. 

“Um...thanks...for this.” I waved the folder. “I’ll have my partners take a look at it. Um...we’ll need to probably question you further. I...are you staying here?” I was trying to continue sounding like a federal investigator, and not like someone who just had a major bomb dropped on her head.

“I - I hadn’t even thought that far ahead. I...don’t think I want to stay here…”

Nodding, I gave him a grim smile of understanding. I let out a breath and looked towards the living room, where I could now hear Dean’s voice. “Okay…” We traded contact info, then  
I turned on my heels and hurried to find Dean. He appeared to be taking notes in his little book, but I was pretty sure he was drawing obscene pictures instead. I took him by the elbow and pulled him outside, glancing at his notebook as we walked.

Yep. Boobs. _Awesome_.

“We have to talk. _Now_ ,” I grated in his ear.

“No shit...I’ve never seen anything like this before.” His eyes were alight, and he was talking kinda fast. We moved to an unoccupied section of the lawn and stood facing mostly away from the house. “The mom… _holy shit_ , Kate, you won’t believe this.”

“Dean…”

“No, seriously, _listen_. Her eyes were burned out of her head.”

That stopped me. “What?”

“Yeah! Exactly. Looks like she was jolted with something powerful, and it pretty much zapped her whole head, burning out her eyes in the process. The kid found her like that…” He paused to shake his head. “I feel for the guy. She was a fucking mess.”

“What could do that? I’ve never heard of a monster that burned out its victim’s eyes,” I mused, temporarily forgetting why I dragged him outside.

He shook his head and shoved his notebook in his pocket. “I dunno, but we’re gonna have a boatload of research to do on this one.” He nodded at the house. “What’d you find out from the kid?”

_Oh, right...fuck_.

I cleared my throat. “Um. Yeah, that’s an interesting situation.”

Dean scratched behind his ear, looking confused. “Interesting, how?”

“Um…” I looked down at the folder I was still carrying. “I think his mom’s death is connected to his father, somehow.” I spoke in a real quiet voice, hating how it sounded, but knowing deep down that it was true.

“Yeah? Well who is the sonofabitch? Let’s look him up and ask some questions.”

I looked upward, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah...about that. His dad was a sperm donor twenty years ago. They’ve never met.”

“Okaaaaaay, then we check with the sperm bank for his name. Jesus Christ, Kate, what’s with you? Can’t you just give me the whole story instead of making me beg for every fucking piece?”

I met his eyes at that, sighed, and handed him the folder. He snatched it out of my hand and opened it gruffly.

Then he blinked. And looked at me. Then back down. And the folder closed.

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. In a strangled tone, he said, “Call Sam. _Now_.”

_**xxxxx** _

By the time we all hooked back up, it was almost dark. Sam spent the majority of the day at the sperm bank (insert ten ejaculation jokes here. _Thanks, Dean_.) and ended up confirming that yes indeed, one John Winchester _did_ donate swimmers twenty years ago.

We sat in our room nursing bottles of beer as we tried to figure out what the fuck to do next.

Dean took a shuddering breath. “Okay...we need a plan, or a something, and then we need to do...something...with this.”

Sam nodded his head. “Mmmm….thanks for that...definitely helped move us forward.” He took a drink and shifted on his bed so his legs were crossed at the ankles. 

Dean propped his bottle on the nightstand and rubbed his temples. “I may need something stronger than beer.”

I stretched on the couch, thankful that I was now nylon-free. “Alright, let’s look at this like any other case instead of as an episode of Dr. Phil.” Dean snorted and continued to rub his head. I ignored him and continued. “So...we have one dead woman with burned out eyes who was killed by a monster we know nothing about. We have the vic’s son, who came home from college and found her already dead, and oh hey, turns out to be our brother.”

Sam laced his hands around his knees and stared thoughtfully across the room. “We have two possibilities, here. One is that her death was a random thing, and Adam being related to us is just a coincidence.” Dean snorted at that, too. “The other possibility, is that she was killed because Dad’s his father, in which case…”

“...In which case he’s in danger,” Dean finished for him. “Awesome. Another one to worry about.”

Sam threw a pillow at Dean, who dodged it easily. “Where is Adam, anyway?”

Oh right - _I_ had that answer. “He’s at a neighbor’s house. Family friends, or something.”

Dean picked up his bottle and drained the remaining contents. “More awesome. Sam - you and Kate go pick up Adam and bring him back here. I think we should assume he’s in danger, and get him home to Bobby’s. I’m going to call Dad, then head over to the morgue to see if I can get another look at the body.”

“What’re you gonna tell Dad?” I asked. There was no way I wanted to be the one to hold that conversation, but I was definitely curious as to how it would play out.

Dean shrugged as he dropped the bottle in the trash. “The truth - what else? He needs to know, and sooner rather than later.”

Sam looked at him thoughtfully. “You think he knew about Adam and just didn’t tell us?”

Again, Dean shrugged. “I dunno.” _But I plan on finding out_.

“And what do we tell Adam?” I asked, knowing that I _did_ have to have _that_ conversation.

Dean sighed and eyed us pointedly. “I’m taking on Dad. You two figure out Adam.”

_**xxxxx** _

Just as Sam finished hotwiring a car for us to use, Dean called with an update from Dad. Turns out, Dad had absolutely no idea there was another Winchester out there. He remembers jacking off in the cup, but he put it out of his mind. He told Dean he needed money for something, and didn’t have the time to run a scam or get a job. 

Dean sounded relieved on the phone. I think the idea of Dad turning his back on one of us really bothered him, so he just needed to make sure that Dad wasn’t a jackass.

Well, about this, at least.

Dad said he’d meet us at Bobby’s in a few days. Why he wouldn’t come sooner was a mystery. I guessed he was in the middle of something Demon related. Nothing else held his attention like that thing did. Besides, he was so secretive after Dean’s de-aging curse that we thought maybe he had a solid lead, for once. We hadn’t heard from him in over a month, so obviously he was really busy.

Or engrossed.

Or just being Dad, which was really just a combination of the first two options.

He was no help with the eye-burning monster, but he did emphasize that we should keep Adam with us and safe. 

By the time we hung up, Sam had pulled over in front of the house where Adam was staying. We glanced at each other as Dad’s words echoed in our minds.

Dad’s directives about younger siblings never, ever led to anything good.

Sam rang the doorbell, and I nervously raked my fingers through my hair to make it more presentable. He eyed me with amusement. “What’s with the fussing? We’re not here to date him.”

“Shaddup. This is a big deal. Aren’t you nervous?”

“I feel like throwing up, actually, but we don’t have time for puking right now.”

Before I could utter a witty comeback, the wooden door swung open, revealing a middle-aged woman staring at us with uncertainty.

“Hello…” We flashed our badges and I smiled sweetly. “I’m Agent Rhodes, this is Agent Taylor. I met Adam Milligan earlier today at his home next door. He told me he was staying here…?”

The woman straightened up at the sight of our badges, and her eyes nervously darted behind her. “Oh...um...yes, yes, he’s here. But he’s...not feeling well. Poor boy came home from school with a nasty cold, and this whole...tragic...event seems to have made it worse.”

Sam also caught how her eyes shifted, and smiled sweetly. “We understand, believe me. But this is now a federal investigation, so I need you to get him for us. Please.” He added the ‘please’ with a little more force than necessary, hoping to get his point across.

The woman glanced at me. I widened that sweet smile on my face, all the while, maintaining eye contact.

“Um...O-okay. Come on in.” She opened the door wider, letting us inside. We nodded politely as we stepped into the front hallway, both of us immediately scanning everything for signs of our brother and whatever trouble this bitch was hiding.

“I’ll go get him,” she stammered, as she briskly walked towards what I assumed was the kitchen. Sam gave me a look, and I nodded in return. He pulled his gun from his waist, and placed it into his pocket. I did the same. We slowly walked further into the house, taking stock of where hallways, windows, and doors were located.

I heard a familiar cough, and sharply looked upstairs, which is distinctly where the woman did not go. Sam followed my gaze, and mouthed, “Go!” Meanwhile, he pulled his gun out and cautiously followed after the woman.

I climbed the stairs, keeping my back to the wall and craning my neck to make sure nothing was about to jump on me. Reaching the top, I silently crept down the hallway, listening for any sign of Adam. Again, I heard a cough, followed by a rough sounding sneeze, this time from inside a room behind me.

I pressed my ear to the door. “Adam? It’s...Agent Rhodes from earlier today.” I directed my voice at the door to maximize the sound getting inside while minimizing how loud it sounded to anyone else.

There were sounds of shuffling and footsteps, and then I heard Adam’s muffled voice. “Yeah, it - it’s me! I - I can’t get out of here! They locked me in…”

I tried the doorknob and found it locked. I was deciding between kicking in the door and picking the lock, when, from downstairs, came shouts and the sound of a door slamming. 

Well, that decided that.

“Stand back!” I yelled. One well placed kick forced the door wide open. Adam was on the bed, covering his face with his hands. I quickly thrust my gun in my pocket and rushed over to him.

“Hey...are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

He shook his head, wrapping his arms around himself. “I’m okay...just...I don’t understand what’s going on...they...I don’t think they’re...them…” He looked at me with panic filled eyes.

I narrowed mine at him, trying to understand what he was saying. “What do you mean you don’t think they’re them?”

He nervously licked his lips, and his eyes flickered towards the door in fear. “She - Mrs. Wilson - just before she locked me in here, her...her eyes...they went all black for a second. It was seriously freaky.”

I took a measured breath.

_Demons_.

Well, time to go!

I nodded my head and pulled out my gun. “Adam, we need to get out of here… _now_.”

He nodded back at me, standing up and taking a step closer. “Okay…”

I checked the hallway to make sure it was clear. Adam coughed, and asked, “What about Sam? Shouldn’t we wait for him?”

I almost answered him, caught in the flow of the moment and thinking of Sam myself.

_Almost_.

Instead I closed my eyes for a second, turned back and murmured, “Christo…”

Adam’s eyes turned jet black, before returning to normal. He then shook his head and smiled this cruel, twisted smile. “Aw, _fuck_ , Kate. I was _so damn close. *sigh*_ I was kinda looking forward to some patented Winchester bedside manner for this kid. He’s got this shitty cold, he’s all whiny about his mommy, and _fuck_ , he’s screaming in my head right now and it’s just so. Damn. Annoying.” He rolled his eyes, sighed again, and rubbed his temples dramatically.

I wanted to rush him, slam him into the wall and exorcise him back to hell. But if I did anything that ended up hurting Adam…

So I stood there, gripping my gun, and frantically reviewed all my options. Since I only had one, it didn’t take long to process it.

“What do you want?” I grated through clenched teeth.

DemonAdam grinned at me, but there was no humor in it. In a flash, he was in front of me, shoving me against the wall. I dropped my gun, and ground my teeth together. I didn’t make a sound, I just stared at him.

He took a deep breath, and leaned in so close, his mouth was practically in my ear. I tried not to flinch, but it was _really_ hard. “Now...listen carefully, because I’ll only say this once. Tell Daddy _you’re welcome_ for saving the youngest member of his brood.”

He must have seen the questioning look on my face, because he threw his head back and laughed.

“That’s right - _demons_ saved Little Emo, here. You Babychesters are out of your league with this one.”

My mind was reeling. “What are you talking about?” 

DemonAdam’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned back a little, searching my face for something. He barked a laugh. “You have _absolutely_ no idea what you’ve stepped into. You _couldn’t_ have dealt with what happened here. Face it, sweetheart, you needed _demons_ to bail you out. Luckily for you, we were in the neighborhood, and it was in Azazel’s best interest that we...lend a hand.”

He eased off me, and I realized he hadn’t executed the classic demon move of pinning us to the wall and prohibiting us from moving. I had to act fast.

“So…” He continued, in a smug voice, “You owe us. And we’ll call someday to collect. Until then, I - “

I hated to interrupt his riveting little gloat-fest, but I decided it was time for this asshole to get the fuck out of my brother. I yanked the anti-demon pendant from around _my_ neck and slammed it against _his_ neck. He recoiled and screamed. I had to stay with him to make sure the fucker left, so I practically fell on top of him to make sure that pendant kept contact with Adam’s skin.

The move was bold, and only the second time I’d attacked a demon head-on. The first time was no big deal - crucifix to the face at Jess’s funeral. This one? Well. It left me completely vulnerable to being possessed...but I didn’t have a choice. I have a habit of not wanting my family members to die or be possessed by evil entities, whether I’ve known them fifteen years or fifteen hours.

It took a few seconds, then Adam’s head reared back, and black smoke billowed out of his mouth. I ducked to the side, hoping like hell the thing would just float out the window and leave us alone.

For once, things went our way, and that’s exactly what happened. Once it was gone, Adam collapsed to the floor, with me on top of him. His eyes were open, looking everywhere at once, and completely full of panic. He was breathing in ragged gasps, and he clutched at the burn mark on his neck. 

I rolled off him and lay panting on the floor as well. It took a few more seconds for me to catch my breath. When I thought I could speak a complete sentence without inserting heavy breathing between words, I turned my head to face him and simply said, “Sorry about your neck…”

Adam jumped, as if he didn’t realize I was next to him. He studied me, and then without warning, he gasped sharply and sat up. “What the _fuck_...Kate? You’re _Kate_ , right? My… _sister_? He said you were my sister! And… _ohmygod_ he was inside me...and...oh, _fuck_... And… _Sam_! There’s more than one of those things! We need to find him!”

He started scrambling to his feet, dragging me with him. I was still processing everything he said - there was some topic hopping in there, and between being pulled to my feet and sorting through what happened, I couldn’t think straight. The fact that he knew who we were, and that Sam was in danger was, admittedly, a little freaky.

Still… _Sam_...yeah, Sam first… _that_ I could focus on.

“Hold on, Adam...slow down! We’ll sort everything out later, I promise! If there’s more than one demon here, then yes, we need to find Sam and get the fuck out of here.”

We were standing now, and Adam paused in his effort to pull me from the room. He looked like he had a million things he needed to communicate and if he didn’t, he’d burst. From what he said a minute ago, I’m guessing he gleaned information from the demon while he was possessed. I wanted to know what that information was, but right now, I needed to find Sam and make sure he was okay.

I put my hand on Adam’s arm and squeezed. I needed him to calm the fuck down. “Hey...lookit me…” His eyes met mine, and I could see anguish, panic, confusion, and most of all...fear. I held out the pendant, and he flinched. I shook my head. “Nono...this will keep the demons out. That’s why it burned earlier. Put it on. ” 

He hesitated, “But…” he fingered the pendant and looked worriedly at me. I realized with a start that he was worried about leaving me without that protection.

Jesus - he’s definitely a Winchester.

I shook my head. “Sorry buddy - I’m older, so I give the orders. Put it on. _Now_.” He actually huffed, before obeying. Amazing how the ‘I’m older’ line sounds awesome when you use it and stupid when you hear it. Whatever - he put it on, that’s all I cared about.

I bent and picked up my gun. “Stay behind me,” I ordered. He swallowed and nodded. As I reached the doorway, he ducked into a closet and pulled out a baseball bat. I arched an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged in return.

_Couldn’t hurt…_

Christ, I love him already.

There was no reason to be stealthy. They knew that we knew they were there, so we just ran down the stairs, yelling for Sam the whole way. I traced Sam’s steps, and found him lying on the kitchen floor, blood trickling from his head. For a second, my heart stopped beating. _Nonononono…_

I ran over and knelt next to him, reaching out and brushing his hair off his too pale face. “Sam? Hey...wake up...c’mon, Sam...we gotta get out of here.” I thumbed his cheek, smiling in relief when his eyelids fluttered and struggled to open.

“There you go! C’mon...wake up, Sam…”

Sam groaned and pressed a palm to his head. “ _Uggghhhhh_ …”

Adam knelt next to us, holding a cast iron frying pan. “I’m guessing they used this…”

Adam saw the murderous look on my face and quickly put the pan down on the table. He bent towards Sam and helped him sit up, while examining his head. He let out a low whistle. “You’ve got quite the gash here...you’ll need stitches…”

Again, I looked at him curiously. “Um...I’m pre-med, and I’ve done a lot of volunteer work at local clinics. And… _yeah_.” He glanced at me and blushed a deep red. 

I nodded appreciatively. “That’ll come in handy.”

He huffed a smile, then frowned as Sam struggled to sit on his own. In a shaky voice, Sam asked, “ _Fuck_...what the hell hit me?”

I carefully ran my fingers through his hair. “Cast iron. Your head finally met its match.”

Sam rolled his eyes at me, then instantly regretted it, as a wave of nausea hit him. “Oh, God…” He held his fist to his mouth and I figured, you know, vomiting on all of us would make this night complete. It really would.

But he didn’t. Instead, he swallowed several times, eyes clenched shut. Adam still had him by the shoulders, and Sam almost leaned against him a little, obviously needing that support. 

We gave him a minute to get under control, then I decided we needed to get moving. Today, demons trumped puking.

“Sam, we gotta get out of here. Like… _now_.”

Sam nodded carefully, and with Adam’s help, got to his feet. He swayed for a second, leaning against the counter until he got his sea legs. Suddenly, a loud, ringing noise made us all jump, wildly scanning the room for what needed killing. Once we figured out it was just Sam’s phone, weapons were lowered. With the heel of one hand pressed against his eye, Sam answered it. 

“Yeah? … Dean! It’s demons, and - “ Sam listened, his eyes boring into mine, with a fierce intensity. Adam seemingly appeared with a wet kitchen towel and was dabbing at Sam’s scalp with professional precision.

I’m thinking that focusing on first-aid was keeping Adam from going batshit crazy. In one day, the kid’s mom was murdered, he was possessed by a demon, and he learned that he had three siblings and a father who hunted the Supernatural. He should have been a drooling mess on the floor.

Drooling mess he wasn’t, but he was definitely barely-keeping-it-together. He caught me looking at him, and I noticed tears in his eyes. Blinking rapidly, he swallowed them down and continued to wipe the blood off Sam’s face.

Finally (I say finally, but I’m sure it was only a few moments later), Sam spoke into the phone. “We’ll be outside. See you in five.”

He flipped his phone shut and sighed. “Dean ran into trouble, too. He’s already on his way.” Sam glanced at Adam, and murmured, “Thanks…”

Adam blushed again, taking the towel to the sink and rinsing it off. “No problem...you still need stitches, though. I can...um...take care of that if you want…”

Sam raised his eyebrows at me. _That’ll come in handy_.

I nodded, _Right?_ I then turned to Adam. “Listen, our older brother, Dean, is on his way to get us. Um...chances are, you won’t be coming back here. We should gather up whatever you want to bring…”

Adam stared at the towel in his hand as he processed my words. I could see the gears turning. He had to reduce his whole life into a duffel bag within the next five minutes. I felt awful.

I sighed. “I’m so sorry, Adam…”

Adam swallowed and shook his head, looking at both Sam and I. “No...no, it’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay, but...if the alternative is to have that thing inside me...and not be in control of my own body… or be dead like my mom...” He shuddered. “I’m guessing I can’t go back to my house, so...I just need my stuff upstairs. It’s...it’s already packed.”

Sam looked at him sharply. “Wait, _what?_ You were possessed?”

Adam swallowed and nodded, fingering the pendant around his neck.

Sam’s eyes locked on it, then turned on me. “We’ll go upstairs _together_ , get Adam’s stuff, then meet Dean outside.”

Nodding, I flashed Sam a small smile and started towards the stairs. 

**_xxxxx_ **

Back at the motel, Sam sat on his bed, ice pack pressed to his head and a bottle of water in his lap. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open now that Dean gave him a monster sized pain pill. 

Once Dean found out Adam was a pre-med student, he nodded appreciatively. “That’ll come in handy,” was all he said. There was no way he’d let anyone stitch Sam without knowing their skill level, so instead, Dean let Adam stitch a cut over his left eyebrow. After examining Adam’s work, he grunted, clapped Adam on the shoulder, and officially welcomed him to the family.

I’m not sure if that made Adam feel better or worse.

After Dean was sure Sam was settled, and I was sure Dean was settled, and everyone was sure Adam was...still not a drooling mess, we traded stories.

Dean’s was short and sweet - he encountered a demon outside the morgue. They scuffled, traded barbs (yes, Dean, telling it to crawl back up Lucifer’s ass was very clever), then scuffled some more. It left its host around the time DemonAdam was forced out.

Adam’s story was harder to share, and harder to listen to. As soon as he arrived at his neighbor’s house, he was taken over. While possessed, the demon’s thoughts were shared with Adam, and he learned a bit about us, how we were related, and even got some history of our lives, which, I’m sorry, is _really fucking creepy_.

He wasn’t privy to what killed his mom or what the demons were up to, but he did learn, and probably by accident, that the demons weren’t strong enough to kill whatever was out there, and they had to do some scrambling to deal with it.

Once the show-n-tell was over, Dean...well, Dean was pacing and muttering and fingering the stitches over his left eyebrow.

“Dean, leave ‘em alone. Don’t mess up Adam’s handiwork,” Sam scolded. His words were a tiny bit slurred as the pain medication began to take hold.

“I can’t leave you two alone for ten minutes,” Dean growled. He tossed an extra glare at Adam and added, “You _three_.” He was particularly unhappy about the possession and Sam’s injury.

All three of us instantly protested, because it wasn’t our fault and besides - Dean got into his own scrap outside the morgue.

Dean waved his hand at us dismissively and huffed onto the edge of his bed. Dean’s control issues were flaring. Too much happened without him; too many people he couldn’t protect, and that sense of failure was eating away at him. He rubbed his temples and sighed heavily.

“We need to get home,” he stated, more to himself than us. “We need Bobby and Dad. We need to get these anti-possession symbols tattooed to make sure this - “ he gestured at Adam, “- doesn’t happen again.”

I actually heard Adam swallow next to me, and the couch wiggled as he burrowed a little deeper into the blanket Dean gave him. I gave his arm a squeeze, and tried to give a smile that didn’t look pitying. He tentatively returned it. 

I knew he felt bad for slamming me against a wall. 

It was ridiculous.

It was also Classic Winchester - consumed by guilt over things beyond one’s control.

I’m gonna get that printed on a t-shirt as Dean’s Christmas present next year.

Sam dropped the ice pack onto his lap with a sigh. “When should we leave?” He was already leaning to the left, slowly sliding further down the bed.

Dean hesitated, frowning at Sam, then he looked to me.

My gaze flickered to Adam and Sam. “It’s an eight hour drive to Bobby’s. We need some rest before leaving.” _You need some rest before driving, unless you want **me** to drive…_

Dean nodded. “As much as I want to get on the road, I don’t want to die in a car accident on the way. We’ll get four hours, then go.” _I’ll be fine - any longer and we’re bigger targets. And, over **my dead body** are you driving._

Sam grunted as he fully slid down into his bed, clumsily trying to pull the blanket over himself. Dean rolled his eyes, and got up to help. Taking the water bottle that almost emptied onto Sam’s bed, he capped it and set it on the nightstand. Shooting me an amused look, he quickly got Sam comfortable and covered. 

Dean dragged a hand down his face, and turned off the light between the beds. He crawled into bed with Sam. It wasn’t long before they were both snoring softly. 

The remaining light came from the bathroom, whose door was slightly ajar. It created an eerie glow in the motel room, as shadows from the furniture splayed across the walls in elongated shapes.

I turned to my left, about to tell Adam that he should go to the other bed and get some sleep, but something about his whole posture stopped me. 

Adam sat quietly, staring straight ahead. He blinked, and started to shiver. At first, I thought maybe he was just cold. But then the shivering increased to where his teeth were actually chattering, and it definitely wasn’t cold enough to warrant that. Worried, I put my hand on his arm.

“Adam…?”

He faced me, anguish and desperation etched onto his face. Before I could utter another word, he pressed himself against me and quietly sobbed. 

Startled, I quickly dislodged the tissue box from between us and pulled him closer. I couldn’t bring back his mom. I couldn’t erase the memory of possession. I couldn’t slow things down so he could process everything easier.

But hold him while he became a drooling mess? This, I could do.

Wrapping my arms around him, I sighed, a few tears slipping down my own face. I held him tightly, as he unleashed the emotions he spent all day avoiding. There wasn’t anything I could say that would make him feel better, even if he _could_ hear me through the turmoil churning in his brain. 

So we sat, crying together over what he lost, and I could only hope that knowing we were there would help him face the future.

Eventually, Adam fell asleep against me. He may have even drooled a bit on my neck. _Eh_...wouldn’t be the first or last time one of my brothers did that.

It just meant he was one of us, now.

_**==end==** _

**Author's Note:**

> The crucifix to the face at Jess's funeral is part of a story called Let Me In. I'm slowly uploading my stuff onto this site, so if you're interested, check it out when it gets here. It tells my AU's version of how Sam copes with Jess's death.


End file.
